


Look What You Made Me Do

by jelly123



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Cheating, Divorce, Eventual Smut, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, False Identity, Lies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13908678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly123/pseuds/jelly123
Summary: It was never supposed to go this far, all I was to do was get him to cheat on his wife, she gets the messy public divorce she wants, & the world goes on. But the more I dug in, the more she wanted to destroy him. Is this how I got to standing on the roof, a gun trained to his head?





	1. Job Offer

**Author's Note:**

> ****Disclaimer: I did not write this with Danneel in mind as his wife, for most of the series she is only referred to as Mrs.Ackles, no descriptors or anything other than that. This is a work of fiction, and for the purpose of it, Danneel is not involved** ******

“Ms. L/n? Your two o’clock is here.” Wendy, my receptionist, informed me.

“Send her in.” I replied, not bothering to turn away from the giant window.

Work had taken an abrupt halt lately, usually I have an assortment of clients filtering through my office on any given day, all needing the help of my ‘special’ skills. But it seems not very many people are in need for it, or I pissed someone off at the agency and they stopped sending clients my way. Whatever the reason, I was getting to the point I was willing to take on any case, no matter how petty.

Hearing the door open once again, I turned towards my desk, readying myself for the first client I’ve seen in weeks.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ackles. Please come in, have a seat.” I offered right away, the idea is to be polite, but not overly friendly.

She took a moment to situate herself in the plush armchair, before diving right in to why she was here.

“I need evidence against my husband, Jensen. I want a divorce, but with our pre-nuptial agreement, if I just file, I won’t get anything. This is where you come in. I had my lawyers place a clause into the pre-nup, stating that if the marriage is terminated due to insinuating circumstances, the damaged party will get everything.” She stated bluntly.

“You want me to dig for dirt?” I asked, making sure we were both on the same page.

“Dig it up, make it up, whatever you have to do, do it. Whatever expenses you rack up, I’ll pay them, and then some.”

I took in the woman sitting across from me, her designer outfit screamed she was used to getting what she wanted. Honestly, this seemed like overkill for a measly divorce, but she was willing to pay, so who am I to judge.

“Very well,” I started, turning and reaching into the filing cabinet beside my desk, “This is the non-discloser agreement, and this it the terms of the contract. Basic and general. The N.D.A is to ensure neither one discusses this meeting, or any other we might have, with anyone. The other is an overview on my fees, says that you agree to the minimum deposit, and once I’ve fulfilled my end, you pay the rest. It also states that I have one week from this initial meeting to determine the course of action required.”

She didn’t even read through anything before she was grabbing a pen out of her purse and signing. She wanted to get her way, and obviously didn’t care for the details of how.

“Once the seven-day period is up, I will have you in for another appointment, then we will discuss the options I have come up with, as well as the file of information I’ve gathered. From there we will decide, based on the information, how you wish to proceed. If the file is enough, we will part ways and neither will have anymore contact. If it is not, you will decide how you want me to handle this.” I watched as she took in what I was saying, or rather, her tuning it out. Her mind was made up, and she already had contingency plans in place.

“Yes thank you. My deposit will be in your account later this evening.” She said, standing to leave, almost rushing out the door.

“Please set a time with Wendy for our follow up.” I called after her, hoping she heard and didn’t rush past my ever faithful secretary.

These were the types of assignments I dreaded. It usually involved a little bit of cyber stalking/spying, some hacking, one or two phone calls and I’d have all the info I needed. All of it done in less than a day, and I’d be back to wasting time doing nothing, impatiently waiting the next client to walk through my doors. The week is merely a formality with cases such as this, a chance for the client to think over their actions and make sure this is what they really want.

Most times someone comes in, wants me to dig up dirt, then before the week is up; they’re calling to cancel. Had a change of heart, and doesn’t want to ruin their marriages. Mrs. Ackles was not one of those people. She truly wants to destroy her husband. The guy must be truly awful if she’s willing to go to such lengths.

 


	2. Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It was barely 24 hours later that I was on a flight to Vancouver, hoping to get a little more intel on the practically perfect Jensen Ackles. Frustration was evident, this was supposed to be simple, easy - I shouldn't have even had to leave Austin._

My original assessment of Jensen Ackles was wrong, the man is practically a saint. A quick Google search resulted in a basic profile;

_Jensen Ross Ackles, born March 1, 1978 to parents Donna Joan (nee Shaffer) and Alan Roger Ackles in Dallas, Texas. Best known for his time as Eric Brady on Days of Our Lives (1997-2000), Alec McDowell/X5-494 on Dark Angel (2001-2002), CJ Braxton on Dawson’s Creek (2002-2003), and Dean Winchester on Supernatural (2005 –present)._

_Married (retracted) Ackles (nee Smith) on February 17 th 2010, no children. Best friend (and co-star) Jared Padalecki. _

Not much can be said about what you find online, well with this guy at least. His social media presence is limited; he tries to keep a low profile. No embarrassing paparazzi photos circling the gossip sites, the worst thing I found was an article written by a fan criticizing a joke he made at a convention.

I wasn’t going to find much this way, I needed access to his phone and computer. Firing up my encrypted email program, I shot a message to Mrs. Ackles, requesting Jensen’s schedule, both film and personal. Not surprisingly, her response came back quick. He was currently in Vancouver, filming.

Groaning, I booked myself the first flight available under one of my aliases. Vancouver isn’t a bad city; I just don’t like to travel that far for something like this. This should have been quick and easy, I shouldn’t have even needed to leave my desk, but I had a feeling this one in particular was not going to be that easy.

After a quick call, securing a temporary position on set and leaving instructions with Wendy that I’ll be out of the office for a few days, I ran home to pack a bag. Nothing special, just enough in a bag to not raise suspicion at the border. Everything I’d need will be in the safe house in Vancouver.

 

The flight North was thankfully quick and painless. As per any travel, the Agency had a rental sitting in the parking lot, all the necessary documentation hiding in the glove box. Though I think it would be safer grabbing it from the house, they insisted on it. In case the car was pulled over, or anything were to happen between the house and here.

Being fairly late in the evening, traffic was relatively quiet. The would have been 20+ minute drive, took less then 10. Just as I was unlocking the door, my phone started ringing, the display telling me who it was.

“I haven’t even been gone 4 hours Wendy.” I said as I answered, stepping into the house.

“I’m sorry, Ms. L/n. I know not to bother you, but Mrs. Ackles has not stopped calling the office.” She sounded frustrated.

“I told her it’d be a week before she got results.” I sighed, “She changed her mind, didn’t she?”

“Actually, uhm, no.” Wendy said, “She was very adamant about wanting to know why you needed her husband’s schedule. And when I told her you were no longer in the office, she demanded to know where you were.”

“She’s going to be trouble.” I groaned, more to myself, “I wouldn’t put it past her to show up there. Take all your work home, anything you’ll need until I get back. Once I get settled here, I’ll call her.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, relieved.

“Enjoy the change of scenery. I’ll call if I need anything.” I said.

Wendy hung up, knowing that there was nothing more to say. I groaned again, not wanting to deal with Mrs. Ackles just after I got off a plane. But I needed to, she apparently wasn’t going to give up; my assessment of her was spot on. She wanted what she wanted, and there wasn’t anyone out there to stop her.

Getting over it quickly, like pulling a band-aid, I dialed her number, and she answered within the first few rings.

“Hello?” She answered.

“Good evening Mrs. Ackles, I apologize for calling so late, but I’ve been made aware that you need to speak to me?” I said, keeping my voice neutral, maybe slightly inconvenienced.

“Yes. I’m just concerned, my deposit just went through, and you have not been in the office, or easily reachable today. I’ve paid a lot of money for you to work for me, and I do not wish to have such an investment thrown away.” Her tone was completely condescending, not even a hint of empathy in it.

“Again, I apologize. I was not aware that your deposit was in my account, I am currently out of state. Rest assured it is for the matter we discussed, but I can not give details. The less you know, the less anything can be traced back to you. If you wish, call my assistant, Wendy, first thing and she will schedule an appointment for when I return. I am a woman of my word and take my business very seriously, I am not here to con you out of your money, Mrs. Ackles.” It was a line drilled into our brains at the Agency, one we had to tell often.

“I expect the results I paid for.” Her response was blunt, as was the line going dead.

Tension was seeping into every bone, this woman was a handful and a half. I almost felt bad for the poor sap that was married to her, then I remembered he _did_ marry her. He must of saw something in her.

Not wanting to think about the trials and tribulations of a celebrity marriage, I ran myself a bath, hoping that would ease the stiffness in my body. Thankfully it did.

With a glass of whiskey, and my laptop, I curled up in the large king-sized bed, alternating between memorising my schedule for the next few days and more research on the show I would be working on – which really just meant binge-watching three seasons of it on Netflix.

Morning came way too soon. The screeching of my alarm jolted me out of the peaceful dream I was having. It took ever ounce of my willpower to get out of the bed and get ready for the day.

Sitting at the island in the kitchen, coffee in one hand, as I sorted through my paperwork. This was just a quick recon, so there wasn’t much needed.

_Katherine Elizabeth Brock, age 25, born to Mary Elizabeth (nee Griffin) & Terrence Carl, May 17th 1993: graduated from the University of British Columbia with a Master’s in Business Administration, worked two years for Zafin before changing career paths and applied to the Vancouver Film School in Acting for Film & Television. Wanted some experience on an actual set before she starts the following fall. Katherine was hired by a temp agency, specializing in PA’s. _

_Determined, outspoken, like’s to be the center of attention –_ really? Someone was having a laugh when they set this up.

It was enough to keep the lie believable, left some room for me to play with her backstory, if needed. All in all, other than “my personality” it wasn’t too bad. The point was to blend in, not stand out, but it was something I could work with.

For this to work, I had to have an almost access pass to everything Jensen did on set. Ideally, I needed to be alone in his trailer, there I would have the chance to plant my bugs. Fingers crossed that the opportunity would arise sooner rather than later.

 

Scratch that, I should have never believed for one second that I’d be in a perfect scenario. I was barely needed today, the only thing he wanted from me was to ask if I could run out for coffee. Not demand, like I assumed his Mrs. Would, but asked politely, handing me a couple extra to pick myself up something as well. He even managed to apologize for having to ask, Southern gentleman was him to almost a fault. That posed the question: why the hell would anyone want to divorce him?

 

 


End file.
